Omegan Boundaries
by BOL
Summary: The last thing a pair of bounty hunters expect while gunning for a mark on Omega is Alliance soldiers, outside Alliance space, bringing them in for anything but their crimes. A plot is revealed that involves serial kidnapping, political assassinations and the potential revival of one of the most dangerous Artificial Intelligences in history.
1. Getaway Trucks, Hanar Ramen and Vorchas

My first story on Mass Effect, set maybe 15 to 20 years after the events of ME3. I'm not sure if I wrote it well or what so any constructive criticism is welcome.

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><p><em>Set<em>

Bullets whistled in my ears, sparks bounced off the corrugated metal walls. I vaulted over a street barrier and ducked behind it, listening to the pattering of shots against it, mere inches of material protecting me.

I clutched my rifle to my chest, an old, battered thing with the stencilled words on the side barely visible through the scratches: M-92. An older _Argo_ model from Elkoss Combine. I popped the spent thermal clip and pushed in a new one.

The hail of metal seemed to lighten for a moment. I slid to the edge of the barrier cautiously and glanced around the corner. Immediately the firing blazed to life again and a single shot clipped the edge of my visor. I recoiled as the whoops and shouts sounded out across the streets, "The Blood Pack's feasting tonight!"

I could hear the Vorcha screaming with ecstasy as they unloaded clip after clip of shot into my cover. I shot blindly at them without even looking out to aim and hissed into my helmet's mike, "Things are getting ugly down here, where's my backup?"

The reply hissed back with an irritating relaxed tone. "Relax, if I start shooting now our mark won't show."

The plan had been simple, I go into the Afterlife club, stir up a bit of trouble with the Blood Pack to draw out the alpha wolf and make a run for it while my partner took the shot. Of course, _simple_ never works out. There had been a lot more Vorcha than I'd anticipated and they were smarter than I'd thought. Not by much, but enough.

One thing led to another and soon I was trapped in the streets, ducking behind rubble and cordons trying to not get shot up. The Vorcha cackled mockingly, one of them howling, "Run! Forrest! Run!"

My partner hummed thoughtfully, "That one watches human classics. Cultured."

"Shut up and shoot them!" I growled. I fired blindly again, waiting for sniper fire to ring out. Of course it didn't and I cursed more into my helmet's mike.

"Chill, I got th- wait!" my partner said. A pang of hope surged through me. "A hovercar outside Afterlife, there's someone getting out, might be our mark… nope, it's a Hanar."

"God Dammit!" I shouted as one of the Vorcha jumped on top of the street barrier. I fired twice into its skull and it fell backwards. As I ran out of cover, firing frantically backwards, I snarled, "Screw the mark, just cap these bastards!"

I slid over the hood of an abandoned hovercar and took cover behind it, hearing the cracking of windows and thudding of bullets as they continued firing. My partner mused, "Would you look at that! One of them's got a mark-4 scope on his rifle! Not that he's using it, mind you, but that is a fine model right there!"

"We can admire these reptile's taste in weapons _once_ they're dead, not before, not would you please kill them!"

"Ah, fine."

A sound like a crack of thunder rang out and I saw a trail of vapour cut down from the Omega roofs. The hail of bullets didn't stop but the cries filled with hatred instead of the thrill of the hunt. Another shot.

"Keelah! Did you see that! His head just popped like a blood balloon! Wait, wait…" Another shot, a scream followed this time. "Double kill!"

The bullets started to thin out. I poked my head out over the car and took aim. The Vorcha were now firing at the roofs discriminately, trying to kill the sniper instead of me. I centered the nearest one in my sights, a particularly ugly one with purplish skin, and fired.

The Vorcha's disgusting warty skin was riddled with bullets. One or two of the dozen Vorcha turned their attention back to me and let loose again. I fired another few rounds before ducking back behind cover but I doubt they hit.

I looked around the corner and fired a few more shots, catching another in the shoulder. He staggered back but kept on firing, the bullets spraying everywhere.

My partner fired another shot, this one kneecapping another Vorcha who fell to the ground and howled horribly as he convulsed. "Oooh, that's gotta hurt."

There was a shaking roar overhead. I looked up and saw two vehicles, hovercars maybe, shoot past overhead. My partner's voice came again, less humour in the voice, "We've got two shuttles in the air, the doors are opening on one of them." A quiet oath from him. "We've got a problem, these aren't Blood Pack vehicles."

The drilling of bullets against the hovercar I was behind stopped. I peeked around the corner and no shots greeted me, the Vorcha were firing at the two shuttles overhead, armoured vehicles of black and white plating. The doors of one of the shuttles opened on greased gears and immediately a hail of turret fire fell upon the Vorcha, rendering them into bloody bits.

The other shuttle hovered to the side, gravitating around one of the roofs. A curse over the comms. My partner swore, "They know I'm here, one of them's pointing at my perch."

I squinted and could make out the silver Alliance emblem on the side of the shuttle, and saw a trio of gunmen kitted out in full body armour jump from the shuttle onto the roof. My partner growled, "I'm going to make a run for it."

"No! There's three of them and one of you!" Bad odds. It was either get gunned down or surrender peacefully and hope for mercy.

"_And _they have very big guns," my partner noticed. "Well, wish me luck."

Through my earpiece I heard voices, humans like me, growling, "Weapon down! Hands behind your head!"

Then the beep of a grenade being primed, startled shouts, a sniper shot, then a short, sharp explosion. I looked up and saw a single one of the Alliance gunmen blown off the roof as a plume of dust billowed out.

My comms buzzed back to life, grainy gunshots and shouts echoed in my earpiece, followed by my partner's voice, "I'm running across the roofs now, two very pissed off humans shooting at my heels."

I looked up to the roofs, the buildings in this district were scarcely taller than three stories. Bullets flew through the plume of smoke from the grenade and I spied a figure racing across the roofs, vaulting over vents and sliding under uncovered pipes.

I sprinted after the figure, following through the streets. "There's a few cars parked outside Afterlife."

"Too far!"

"Fine! There's a goods truck parked outside that ramen place in Tuhi District." Not really the best of options, the district we were in, the Zeta District, was quite out of the way from there.

"Good enough, meet you there."

I saw the figure take a sharp turn and jump onto another roof, running in the complete opposite direction. I tried to contact him but there was nothing on the comms but static. _Typical_.

A snarl from the side. I glanced down an alleyway and saw two vorcha there, a krogan lumbering behind them. The vorcha levelled their weapons at me and as I ran I heard the bullets patter against the walls and floor.

A pair of double doors slid open and I saw another vorcha there, recoiling in surprise. I fired my rifle twice, one bullet sinking into his chest, the other into his cheek. I kneed the screaming thing in its stomach and threw its body down behind me, letting the sliding metal doors trap the writhing body between them.

The streets here were filled with civilians, a colourful crowd of more species than I knew, war-torn Turians, Batarian mercenaries, Krogan guns for hire, grizzled humans, even the odd tourist. I noticed Eclipse symbols, Blue Suns symbols and, unfortunately, Blood Packs too. The people closest to the door shied away from the dying vorcha. I pushed past them, allowing myself to sink into the faceless crowd.

I'd made it to the Tuhi District, I just needed to get to that shitty ramen place at the other end. I stowed my M-92 on my back where it clipped magnetically to my armour and folded itself up.

An Elcor said laboriously, "Informatively, I present to you my latest shipment of goods including a limited edition Commander Shepard-VI mark 4."

A flickering full colour hologram of the famed Commander Shepherd saluted and growled, his voice broken up by static, "I'm Comman-man-mander Sh-Sh-Shep-uuuuuur-d and this is my favourite sto-o-o-o-re on the Cit- OMEGA!"

The Omega had clearly been superimposed on the original audio, which wasn't that good to begin with with all the stuttering and failed editing. But still it drew quite a crowd of adoring fans. I didn't care much for it, I'd been too young to remember Shepherd and his deeds were nothing more than glorified legends to my generation. But to everyone else he was more like a god.

The Mad Prophet, an elderly Batarian dressed in rags, shouted, "Repent! Repent! Repent all the plagues of our mortality and you may still find salvation when the end comes! The end is nigh! You sir!" He pointed at an innocent human man. "You are a blight! And you!" A woman now. "And you! Even you! Yes, you, do not think your armour and guns hide your evil, I see the silver mark of death on you, human! Alliance scum!"

That didn't sound good. I glanced towards the Mad Prophet and saw the Alliance operatives cutting their way into the crowd, big polished guns in the crook of their arms.

I kept my eyes forward, maybe they hadn't noticed me ye-

"You there! Halt!"

Well, there went that hope. I forged my way through the crowd, shoving aside a startled Turian and Asari couple. I tried to push a Krogan out of the way but the huge beast turned and grabbed my wrist, its lizard-like face sneering at me. I looked down and saw the Blood-Pack's symbol scratched onto his armour.

He roared, "Found him!" With his free hand he drew his pistol and growled, "See what you get for pissing off the Blood Pack."

"An ugly Krogan making squinting at me?"

He growled, "When I'm through with you your entrails will be hanging from the rafters."

The Krogan's shoulderplate had been religiously polished to a sheen, I looked in it and saw the reflection of the crowd. There, the mirror images of the human pursuers, barely ten paces behind me.

No time to waste, then. I grabbed the Krogan's chestplate with one arm and he looked down in surprise, no Krogan expects a mere human to do something that stupid, and with the other hand I drew my knife from a sheathe on my thigh. I swung it up in an arc and in the same motion brought it down upon the beast's forehead plate, lodging it between the front plate and the one behind.

The Krogan snarled in surprise, jerking away and frantically trying to tear the knife off, if I'd twisted the knife hard enough I would've torn off his head plate, and he knew it. He grabbed the handle and tried to pull the knife out with what seemed a combination of hate and fear. With each crazed thrash as he tried to pull it out he cleared larger swathes of the crowd, he roared, "Human! I will make sure you taste every inch of this knife when I shove it down your throat!"

I glanced back, the gunmen were literally two metres away. I patted the writhing Krogan on the shoulder as I backstepped into the crowd, "You know what? You can do that to my friends here, they're very fond of impalement."

One of the gunmen reached out for me, his armoured glove landing on my shoulder, "You're under arrest by authority of-"

"RARRGH!"

The Krogan pulled the knife out with a gristly sound like concrete sliding against concrete. He grabbed the nearest gunman and proceeded to lift the screaming man into the air. "Die human!"

The gunman who'd grabbed me relinquished his grip as he aimed his weapon at the Krogan, who threw the one in his hands so high the man became lodged in the mess of cables and wires overhead, making them fizzle and rain sparks upon the crowd.

Someone screamed, quite a few of those in the crowd shrank away but most of them stayed to watch, some of them cheering on the Krogan. I turned away, looking over the heads of the crowd. Now where was that ramen place?

Harrot's Emporium, Batarian State Arms, yada yada yada… A tiny little neon sign caught my attention, a sky blue sign with too many words crammed in that read: Unparalled Exquisiteness of Wheat Based Consumption Products. A modest little counter restaurant that was run by a Hanar named Hyrinas. Made amazing ramen and got equally amazing business. Most people loved the novelty of having Hanar-made human meals.

Hyrinas carried out a dozen bowls of ramen, one in each tentacle, and slid them across the counter to his customers, a full house today, every seat on the counter was filled. The Hanar bowed and said a few kind words to an Asari customer before he caught sight of me making a beeline to his restaurant and chimed, "Greetings, potential customer! This one sees you as a human, this one suggests you try this establishment's house special: Shoyu Ramen with authentic synthetic processed dried seaweed. Every wheat based consumption product is made meticulously by hand."

Another roar from the Krogan, lost in the din of the crowd. A volley of bullets flew from behind, rebounding off the Ramen Place's counter and walls. Hyrinas sighed, "This one is distressed, this one notes that bullet fire is not conducive to business."

As the restaurants customers screamed and dispersed I glanced back, the Krogan was moving sluggishly now, three humans trying to restrain him. The other gunmen were aiming their weapons at me, shouting something. I ducked down as they fired more warning shots, making the Ramen Place's neon sign spark and fizzle out.

I jumped the counter, shoving past the Hanar who cried, "Please! This one suggests you do not-"

More shots as I slid through a curtained doorway into the kitchen. A small, very neat place, one side of the room had a deep sink filled with polished silverware and a cooking counter at the right side of the room was piled high with cooking pots and stoves that looked almost unused, another small table in the centre that was barren. I noticed that only one stove looked like it had been ever used, a huge silver thing with a tall stack of torn open packets next to it. I checked one of the packets: Instant Ramen with Seaweed substitute.

Crashes from outside, shattering bowls and screaming people. More gunshots. I saw a doorway at the far end, outside was the unloading area. I'd spied the goods truck outside earlier on our way to our mark but hadn't thought much of it.

I heard Hyrinas protesting outside, more screams, a single gunshot louder and distinct from the others, then a shape fell through the curtained doorway to the restaurant. It was the Hanar, one round hole in his side where water slowly seeped out, pooling on the hard kitchen floor. I took a step back, these weren't regular Alliance grunts, they don't kill civilians.

The screaming outside continued, a hand pulled aside the curtains. I grabbed the nearest item, a pot, and threw it at the gunman. There was a satisfactory clang and the man fell back. I flipped the table in the kitchen and kicked it towards the doorway to the restaurant, making another gunman trip over it as he tried to charge in.

I turned and ran for the backdoor, there was a gunshot that ricocheted off a cooking pot and bounced around the room. I slammed my shoulder against the door and it bent outwards slightly. It didn't even have a digital lock, just a simple key and lock system. I drew my rifle again and shot once into the lock.

There was a satisfying scar in the metal. I slammed my shoulder against the door but still it held. Obviously, that trick only works in movies. I aimed to the side and shot the hinges instead, two bullets for each of them. I slammed my shoulder against the door again and one corner popped open.

I pushed again and another corner of the door bent forward.

"He's trying to get out!"

I turned round and raised my rifle, pushing my back against the door. One of the Alliance Gunmen was crouched behind the overturned table and pushing it forward like a shield. I fired a few rounds into it and slammed my back against the door again.

Another gunman rushed into the room and slid down behind the table. They weren't shooting at me yet, but the room was small, they'd get to me soon enough. I fired at the table again but the metal was too thick to pierce.

I slammed my back again against the backdoor, fired at the table again as one of the gunmen poked their heads out, and slammed my back again. The third time I did it the door crumpled in so fast I didn't have time to register it and I fell out the doorway with it.

I scrambled up from the floor, not even looking back. The goods truck was right there, metres away. I grabbed the handle and yanked it open, the late-Hyrinas had left it unlocked. I slid into the drivers seat and kicked the gas pedal, just a term of expression here as vehicles don't run on gas anymore, and heard the engine rev to life.

It was at that moment my comms buzzed back to life, my partner panting, "Have you got the truck?"

I looked up through the windshield and saw the gunmen streaming from the restaurant's backdoor. "In a manner. Better hurry up man."

Gunshots over the mike. "Open up the skylight!"

The gunmen had me surrounded, shouting at me to shut off the engines or they would have to 'terminate me with necessary force'. I flicked a switch on the dashboard and the skylight whirred open, most vehicles had one nowadays, the latest trend. I coughed as the dusty Omega air seeped in.

"I'm coming in hot!"

The roof of the Ramen Place was set alight by a series of quick explosions, a giant plume of smoke and dust roared out. A shape jumped off the roof, the smoke clinging to it as he fell through air and fell neatly through the skylight and into the empty seat next to me. I glanced at him and saw the Quarian, his grey and black enviro-suit caked with ash and riddled with scuffs and even a round bullet scar in his side. He stowed his sniper rifle and panted, "Drive!"

The smoke had billowed onto the street and caked the gunmen completely in darkness. The engine of my newly-acquired truck roared deeply, the vehicle rising a few feet off the ground.

A thud, the engine choked to a strangled whine like a suffocated animal, and my truck crashed back to the ground. A single gunshot, the same I'd heard before Hyrinas' body had fell into the kitchen, and the tinted windshield shattered like brittle ice. I looked away even though I was wearing a helmet as the shards slid off my visor.

I reached to my back for my rifle but there was a single beep and a small object flew into the vehicle. Me and my partner's eyes both followed the object as it bounced off the dashboard and rolled around, coming to a rest on the truck's floor between the two of us. A little round grenade with a flashing red light on it.

We both kicked open our doors and threw ourselves out either side as the grenade detonated and shredded apart the inside of the truck. I tried to get up from the dust layered ground but the Alliance soldiers fell upon me, pinning my arms behind my back.

I snarled and tried to kick their shins, trashing in their grip. I growled, "Screw off! You don't have the right to do this! We're outside Alliance space!"

"Well maybe we're not Alliance."

I looked up painfully to the owner of the voice. The dust began to clear and a shadow stepped into the glow of the truck's headlight, the orange glow of Omega's skyline illuminating the figure's features menacingly. A female Turian with white markings across her pale face, her black armour glowering morosely. She popped a spent thermal clip out of a pistol, more of a hand cannon really, and said humourlessly, "Take a note, boys, this is how we get things done."

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><p>So, that's chapter 1, hopefully not the last one. I did well, I hope, and have a literally innumerable ideas on directions to take the story in from here. As such, at certain points, I might ask help from you, the audience, in decisions that could change the story and affect the characters within it.<p>

Please leave a review on what you thought and constructive criticism is _always _welcome!


	2. Briefings

I was actually going to name this chapter: The Filler. Next chapter should be in maybe a day or two, at most three or four.

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><p><em>Hal'Thenn vas Zaera<em>

"I'm going to ask you again."

The Turian sat opposite me, her fingers arched before her eyes and her mandibles twitching irritably. She spoke in measured tones, "What do you know of the slaving rings."

"And I'm going to tell you again." I narrowed my eyes behind my visor. "I don't know anything about any slavers." I shook the thick bonds on my wrists, one of those heavy duty ones which were huge cuffs of metal that looked like thick sheets of white plastic wrapped around my wrists. Vacuum sealed. "Maybe if you popped these cuffs off I could hunt them down for you, because that's what I am! A bounty hunter! Not a slaver!"

After our failed getaway attempt, I blame Set totally, I don't know why but the human definitely did something wrong, they'd blindfolded us and brought us here, wherever here was. They'd slapped cuffs onto me and dragged me into an interrogation room, a bleak and bare square grey room with nothing but a table and two chairs, one of which I sat in, a handsome, charming Quarian in a rugged enviro-suit, and the unjust Turian who'd apprehended me.

The Turian nonchalantly pulled out a knife, an understatement as it was a serrated blade that was eighteen inches long with metallic embossing along the side. She ran a finger down the length of the blade. "Do you know what this is?"

I settled back into my chair, watching the knife warily. The Turian allowed herself a tiny smile, not a happy one, more like an '_imma shank your ass_' kind of look. Kind of cute actually. She twirled the long knife in slow circles, "It's a Turian ceremonial knife, a skilled individual could shear the meat off the bone of a varren in one stroke. Have you seen what it could do to a Quarian? Would cut straight through your enviro-suit."

I smiled behind my visor, leaning forward. "I think we can help each other, you let me out and there are a dozen ways I could pay you back."

She narrowed her eyes and gripped her knife tightly. "I have a knife and you're cuffed. I don't think you're in a position to make deals."

I smirked. "I'm just saying, I'm an attractive young Quarian, you're an attractive Turian gal. Think about it, two dextros out for a romantic night on Omega?"

She was quite attractive in that lethal, dangerous way. The Turian's face was more incredulous than anything at my words. She scoffed, "Are you seriously flirting with me?"

"Trying to, at least, it's kind of hard to flirt with a pretty gal when I don't know the pretty gal's name."

She stabbed the knife into the table, so hard that the metal edge sunk two inches into the metal. I flinched and she said calmly, "Unless you want me to slice open your enviro-suit, I suggest you answer me. Tell me everything you know of the slaving rings."

I pretended to think about it for a moment, "Uh… they're slavers?"

The Turian grabbed my cuffs and pulled me forward with surprising strength, making my head bang against the table. She laid the knife across my right arm and growled, "What do you know of the slavers? Spit it out! I want names, dates, places, targets! Speak!"

I looked at her coyly. "You know you're kinda hot when you're threatening me."

She pressed the knife into my arm and I saw a few of the suit's synthetic fibres getting cut. I was a bit nervous of course, but I kept up my bravado. "If you people didn't need me I'd have been shot on the roof, or you'd have shot me after I got out the truck, or throttled me on the way here." Her mandible twitched irritably. I smiled at the effect I was having, "Admit it, you people need me."

She pressed the flat of her blade into my suit now instead of the edge. "You're right, we need you." She grabbed my helmet and made me look up at her in the eye. A rather uncomfortable position. "But we don't need your arm."

I closed my eyes and braced for the pain as she brought the knife up and swung it down smoothly.

"We need them alive!" came a voice like gravel.

The blade stopped in its path so close that I could feel it pressing against my suit. I opened my eyes and saw the Turian scowling. "I wasn't going to kill him, I was just going to make a point to him."

"Come on, we need him." I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding and looked a bit higher and saw a door open at the opposite wall, I hadn't even noticed it was there. There was a human there, armoured in black and red armour with the words 'N7' clear on his chest, skin the colour of dried grass and black hair trimmed into a crew cut.

The Turian pushed me away as if with disgust, stowing her knife in a sheath at the small of her back. She turned to the human, answering calmly, "Fine, but this is the last favour you call in. I'll go my way from now, maybe your team will get there in time to mop up after me."

She brushed past the N7 as he stepped into the room. I felt my old reckless bravado return and called, "You still haven't told me your name, beautiful!"

The Turian glanced back disdainfully. "Veraria Feldros, Council Spectre."

And with that she turned and disappeared. My heart fell in my throat as I realised who I'd been messing with. The N7 sighed, his shoulders drooping a little. He turned to me and chuckled, "Set was right, you _are_ one crazy bastard."

The N7, up close I noticed he wasn't young, perhaps thirty years old or so, was a much nicer host that Veraria had been, no knives or threats and whatnot. But he didn't pop my cuffs, obviously, humans weren't _that_ stupid, close but no.

He escorted me out into a larger room. I noticed a window to the interrogation room I'd been in, a one way window. I never even knew they were watching me. And 'they' in this case referred to a particular human sitting with his legs up on another chair, sipping from a cup of steaming coffee. Set nodded to me, taking a sip from his coffee. "Nice show you put on, Hal."

"Set?" I glanced at the N7. "So you have the Quarian convict being interrogated while the human convict gets to drink coffee and watch? Now that just isn't fair."

Set shrugged, "It helps if you know the guy in charge."

I glanced at the N7 again. He explained, "We served together in the Alliance before, that's why I chose Set, I know what he can do."

"And I know what Duke can do," Set said, gesturing to the N7. There was something in his voice approaching respect.

"And have you heard about what this Quarian can do? The one man siege of the Eclipse? The three shot war? No? Nothing?" That's a bummer.

Duke gestured to Set to get up, "Come on, man, let's go."

I tried to get his attention. "Uh, my cuffs?"

"Just a moment, Quarian."

"But… but Set…" I gestured with my cuffed hands towards my partner who quite evidently didn't have cuffs. But Duke didn't seemed to notice and gestured for them to go.

The N7 seemed much less threatening with a name. He led the two of them down a hallway and, waving his hand across a locked door with a flashing red interface, opened the metal sliding doors and gestured for them to go inside.

It was a dark room, almost completely lightless except for two spotlights that shone on two seats. Duke nodded towards them, "Sit down."

He stayed where he was, blocking the door. Set and I shared a _look_, and he jerked his head towards the seats.

I took the nearest seat, still quite miffed about having my cuffs kept on, while Set took the other one two metres to my left. It looked comfortable but I couldn't feel it through my suit.

Set snuggled into the seat and muttered, "Hmm, nice."

It was a futuristic designed recliner seat with a minimalistic design. The frame was made of a long, continuous length of curved, seemingly real wood, with cushions sticking out of it. Set wrapped his hands around the armrests and leant back, immediately white plastic rings extended from the armrests and chair legs and wrapped around his wrists and ankles.

Similar bonds wrapped around my ankles but not my arms, obviously, as they were already cuffed and I couldn't place them on the armrests. Duke strode to stand before us and lamented, "I regret having to do this but we can't take any chances. We need you two."

I noticed other dull figures at the edge of the light, more Alliance soldiers. I leant back and feigned relaxation, asking, "Alliance in Omega. I thought the Terminus System was outside your jurisdiction?"

Duke nodded. "Outside the jurisdiction of the grunts." He tapped the N7 on his chestplate. "I'm an N7 agent and the head of an N7 task force." He gestured to the barely visible figures at the edge of the light. "This grants us some liberties."

Set asked, "Wait, I thought there's just N7? What's this task force business?"

"The practice started back in the Reaper War of '86. There just weren't enough N7 agents to go around, so they took the best soldiers they could find and made task forces, putting N7s in charge of them. Much more effective, and after the Reaper War we kept doing it."

I was still a bit miffed. "You could've done with alot less shooting at us."

"Veraria had assumed command of my men going after you, while I was chasing another lead on the other side of Omega. Let's say her method are a bit more... callous than mine."

Duke gestured to his side and a holographic galaxy map appeared. "For 10 years there've been a series of 'incidents' across the galaxy, assassinations and kidnappings. At first they seemed isolated incidents but soon patterns began to emerge. The victims were usually technically literate, usually with many years of experience with engineering. Out of the several dozen kidnappings, four percent were Salarian, eight percent Asari, twelve percent Turian, sixteen percent Human, sixty-odd percent Quarian."

I raised an eyebrow. I hadn't been back to the homeworld since I'd left when I was six, in fact I've probably seen less than a dozen Quarians since then and talked to none of them, but still this info sparked a wave of anger from me.

He waved his hand across the galaxy map and a series of red crosses appeared and countless tinny names and tinny pictures appeared. "They've happened all over the galaxy, Thessia, Illium, Earth, Palaven, even the Citadel and a few cases in Rannoch. Then there are the assassinations."

"What kind of assassinations are we talking about?" Set asked.

"The very discreet, professional kind." He waved his hand again and the red crosses disappeared, replaced by a few circled planets. Only three. "The first assassination, a Salarian archaeologist, found dead at an excavation site apparently from a fall to his death in 2189, the second was an Asari information broker in Illium in 2195, cause of death: a space hamster cage found in her quarters contained traces of toxic elements, maybe poison gas, and the third was a Quarian Admiral."

"Woah, woah, woah, what?"

I tried to stand up but my ankle restraints kept me down. "An Admiral? We don't have _real _Admirals anymore."

"It was surprising information to me as well," Duke agreed. "But it was indeed a still commisoned Admiral aboard a ship known as the Moreh, an old research vessel that fought in the War for Rannoch and the Reaper War. But the real matter that concerns you two are the kidnappings."

Duke pointed at the hologram and the crosses that signified the kidnappings appeared again. "We drew a line between the kidnappings and discovered a second pattern." A red line appeared, connecting the crosses together. "We connected them in chronological order and found that they seemed to follow the journey of a particular Batarian freighter, captained by a suspected Batarian slaver, Barrekk Seys. And we found that after patrolling the galaxy, causing kidnappings in its wake, the freighter would return to Omega."

Set struggled slightly against his bonds. "Let me guess, the freighter's here now?"

"Spot on, the _Conqueror's Might_ docked at Omega a few days ago, we followed soon after." Duke tapped Omega's position on the galaxy map and zoomed in on the picture of a large ugly ship in drydock. "This is the closest we've gotten to a lead in ten years since we've begun our investigation six years ago, and now we've encountered another problem. We've discovered that Barrekk Seys has close ties to the Batarian Hegemony, if we try to touch him the Hegemony will take this as a great offense, trying to arrest one of them outside of our public jurisdiction, and then we'll have to reveal our N7 operation and one thing leads to another and… you know."

"So you need us," I said, more as a statement than a question.

"Yes," Duke answered reluctantly. "We need someone outside the law to get Barrekk Seys for us and I can't trust anyone but Set and if he trusts you," he looked at me with deep, dark eyes. "Then I trust you too."

I opened my mouth and began, "Well, before we help you perhaps we could negotiate someth-"

"We'll do it," Set interrupted.

Duke was about to say something but it was my turn to interrupt now. "Hold up, since it's my species mostly that's being kidnapped, I think I've a right to speak."

The N7 nodded understandingly. I glanced at Set before speaking, "For a start, I want our names cleared of any… past misdeeds. As well as that we want a just reward, say… five hundred thousand credits to begin with."

Duke nodded. "We can arrange for the clearing of your names, but the reward… I'm an agent, not a money press, but I'll do what I can."

We were escorted out of the rooms by the task force soldiers, Duke turned to face the hologram map and continued to inspect the galaxy map. Set whispered to me, "You didn't need to do that."

"What, the money?" I smirked. "I know you need it, if I left you, you wouldn't be able to take down a single mark!"

"That's not what I mean." I could see that smile behind his helmet.

I smiled back even though he couldn't see it behind my visor. "We're family, bro, we look out for each other, no matter how unappealing their face looks."

"Coming from the guy who has to hide his behind a tinted visor?"

Then the blindfolds went over our eyes and we were dragged into a vehicle.

* * *

><p>Next chapter we get to the good part where we go to the Afterlife Club and Veraria, the dangerous Turian Spectre, comes once more into conflict with Set and Hal'Thenn.<p> 


	3. Welcome to Afterlife

So, Chapter 3's out which involves suicidal-sexual harassment and working with the cold, aloof Spectre, Veraria. At the end of this chapter there will be a choice to make that could decide how this story goes from here and honestly I'm not sure which decision I prefer, so just read on ahead and see for yourself!

* * *

><p><em>Hal'Thenn vas Zaera<em>

"Welcome to Afterlife, enjoy yourself."

I nodded thanks to the bouncer as the glossy metal doors slid open. Set was all business now, he had psyched himself up for this mission. I couldn't say I blamed him, a chance for his sins to be cleansed… he needed this. Me? I was in this for the money I might get, or at least I told myself that. Deep down it felt nice to know I was taking out someone who'd been kidnapping Quarians.

I'd ditched my sniper rifle, nearly shed a tear at that too, and had nothing but a pistol on my thigh. Technically weapons were allowed in Afterlife, in fact any other day I'd have brought a shotgun as well. But being armed to the teeth wouldn't help our chances with kidnapping our target discreetly, at least Set said so. His plan was for me to cause a scene and distract his guards while he slipped drugs into our target's drink. My plan had involved lots of big guns and taking hostages. For some reason this didn't sit well with Duke when I mentioned it.

As we walked down the long hallway to Afterlife, holographic flames on either side, Set pressed the side of his helmet. "Duke, give me a rundown of our target."

A moment, then the N7 agent answered over the comms, "Barrekk Seys, Batarian, a metre and a half tall, one blinded eyes and a scar along the right side of his neck. Frequents Afterlife for hours at a time. Latest reports say he's got at least 2 bodyguards, mercenaries, at all time, Blue Suns most likely so expect human and Turian resistance. Also, Aria T'Loak will be watching so try not to screw the club up too much."

Duke said after a moment's silence, "I don't think I need to remind you how crucial it is that you how crucial it is that you apprehend this Batarian, Set."

"Relax, N7," I said, trying to remind him that Set wasn't the only one on this assignment. "We're professionals."

Set muttered something unintelligible and the doors to the club slid open.

Neon purple light flooded into my eyes, my visor was tinted but still the light was strong. Asari dancers spun around poles on glowing platforms, the dance floor was filled with dancing patrons of every race I could think of, Turians, Batarians, humans, Asari, even an Elcor swaying sluggishly, a cute youngish looking Asari riding on his back.

I glanced up and saw the upper levels were equally crowded, many of them leaning over the side of the railing and laughing together as they sipped from their drinks. I also saw a shadow in a glass room overhead, quietly surveying the club. I couldn't make out the features but I knew the name well enough, Aria T'Loak. I saw Set wet his lips nervously as he saw her shadow too and look away. Can't say I blame him.

But the anxiety went away quickly. The music pounding so deep in my skull and bones, the dancers around us, the purple and red light pouring onto me. The music, the claustrophobia, reminded me of my home, and for that I loved this place.

A pair of Krogan bouncers flanked the doors and as we walked past them one of them sneered at me. I was prepared to shoot back a smart and eloquent response, involving much cursing of his mother, but Set grabbed my arm and pulled me away. We pushed our way to the counter where a disgruntled human was serving drinks in glasses that looked very dirty, or maybe it was just one of those new art things.

While Set occupied himself with stressing out and looking over the heads of the crowd for our mark, or his Blue Suns bodyguards, _I_ occupied myself with the tenuous business of ordering myself a drink.

I snapped my fingers at the human behind the counter, not an easy trick considering my suit wasn't made for that, fellow was rocking the stoned look complete with bloodshot, listless eyes and twitching fingers. Red sand overdose probably. I shouted over the din of the club, "Got any Taponia Ice?"

The human seemed to take a moment to realise I was talking to him, another moment for him to register my words. He looked at me uncomprehendingly, then nodded slowly. He poured out a glass of a mustard yellow drink and slid it across the counter to me.

Taponia Ice wasn't really ice, just had a kind of cool, freezing flavour. Set raised an eyebrow at the sloshing yellow liquid, a few strange strands of material swirling at the bottom. "Sure that's safe for you to drink?"

"Of course! It's a Turian drink, not a very good one but at least it won't poison me." Perks of being part of a dextro-protein species, other races' food and drink were inedible to me, at best, at worst, and more commonly, like poison to me. Only the Turians shared the Quarian's burden.

I pulled out a filter straw, it looked like nothing more than a glass and metal tube but it worked amazingly. As I took a sip, horrid stuff really, Set nudged me. "Don't look now, but a Batarian just entered the club."

"Big deal."

"He's got Blue Suns flanking him, four at least."

I didn't want to turn to look, Blue Suns were smart, they'd get suspicious quickly. I raised my glass and turned it till I could see the reflections of the crowd behind me, distorted by flashing purple lights and broken up by splotches of dirt on the glass. There indeed was a Batarian, four bodyguards on all sides, pushing the crowd away and forging a path.

Of his four bodyguards two were humans, the other two Turians. I muttered to Set, "I'll try to distract the Blue Suns and you disable our mark."

"Target," Set corrected. "Don't call him a mark, makes me want to shoot him."

"Fine then, target, anyways, since there's four bodygu- hold up…"

I squinted at the reflections in the glass and glanced back just to make sure. _No doubt about it, that's her. _

Set looked at me quizzically. I hissed, "The second Turian bodyguard, the one on the left, don't you remember her?"

His eyes widened. Of course he didn't forget, neither had I. She was immediately recognisable with her white crest tattoos, even when she was kitted out in full Blue Suns armour.

_Veraria Feldros, Council Spectre…_

* * *

><p>The Batarian had taken a seat on the counter, right now he was drinking from a tall glass of mysterious dark sludge, and his human bodyguards were sitting on the two seats on either side of him. The other Turian bodyguard was sitting opposite them on another counter, continuously scanning the bar, while Veraria was seated off to the left side of the counter, a perfect vantage point to cover the rest of the club.<p>

I pulled a snoring Volus off the seat next to her and replaced him. The Spectre tried to ignore me but I noticed how her mandibles twitched irritably despite her stoic face. I smiled. "Looks like we can't stop running into each other, can we, Spectre?"

Her eyes flicked to meet mine before her gaze shot forward again. She muttered, almost silent in the roar of the music, "You're interfering with Spectre business, Civilian, I could run you in for that."

"We're on the same side, here, remember?" She still looked straight ahead, pretending to scan the club. The human bodyguards a few seats away were laughing and joking among themselves, the Batarian kept to his drink. The other Turian bodyguard at the opposite counter was watching me suspiciously.

"Looks like you're friend's getting suspicious."

Vera didn't need to look to know the other Turian was watching. I mused, "Or maybe he's just jealous of the handsome Quarian who gets to sit next to you."

She growled, "You're going to compromise my mission, Civilian."

"Well then we gotta act natural, don't we?" I said evilly. I called over this counter's bartender, an Asari who looked much less stoned than the human bartender. "Two Dibian Drops."

The Asari bartender smiled, "Hope you've got the credits to back that order up."

"Oh I got the credits, trust me." Truth was I really didn't have enough to be spending on drinks that expensive.

She pushed two glasses towards me, each a smooth, swirling elixir of blue-green liquor with a single emerald drop suspended in the centre. I pushed one of the drinks towards the Spectre. She refused, expectedly, and I mock-whined, "Come on, these things aren't cheap you know. Best Turian drinks this place has."

She eyed me suspiciously, as if I might have poisoned the drink, before gingerly accepting the glass and taking a tiny sip. I smiled. "So how about you tell me about what you're doing in Blue Sun armour, guarding our mark?"

The Spectre kept her lips sealed and set the glass back down.

"We're unofficially part of Duke's N7 task force now," a blatant lie but I didn't tell her. "The two of us are on the same side here, we can help each other out."

"I don't need your help," she stated curtly.

"Then why isn't the Batarian in your custody yet?"

Her mandibles twitched again. After a long moment, at the end of which I felt quite triumphant, she spoke. "Fine, but if you interfere with my work I'll make sure I get to use my knife on you."

Feisty.

She took a sip of the Dibian Drop. "I was planning to just shoot the Batarian but in light of recent evidence, I've decided to take this Barrekk Seys in for interrogation."

I glanced back at Set, still drumming his fingers on the counter impatiently. We had a few hours at least, Duke said our mark spent long hours at this club, the human was too impatient. I turned back to Vera. "So why haven't you done it yet?"

She scowled openly. "I'd infiltrated the Blue Suns two weeks ago, managed to get into Barrekk Seys' favour and get him to hire me as a bodyguard. My plan was to wait until a chance arose, shoot the other three bodyguards and arrest the Batarian. But these Blue Suns, they aren't grunts that's for sure."

I looked at them. The Turian had at least four guns on his person, sans a pistol on each thigh, including a sniper rifle, a triple barrel shotgun and a belt of grenades across his chest. The humans were similarly equipped.

"One of the humans, Orleh, he suspects me, keeps in his sights at all times. The others are starting to catch on as well." It took her a moment to swallow her pride but she admitted at length, "I can't arrest Barrekk Seys on my own without getting shot up."

"Neither can we." Was this a lie? We hadn't exactly tried yet, I had confidence we could do it, but I haven't really figured out how I was going to distract them exactly. And a Spectre on our side would help immeasurably. "Together I'm sure we could breeze past this."

I took another long quaff of the Dibian Drop through my straw and looked sadly at the empty glass. Vera took another sip, her's was barely a third empty. "Fine, but if you-"

"-get in your way you'll gut/eviscerate/fillet me with your knife," I finished.

Before her scowl came back was that a tiny smile that flashed across her face?

"So what did you have in mind exactly?" She asked.

I leant forward and whispered, "A very exciting plan."

And with that I slid my hand up her thigh.

* * *

><p><em>Set<em>

A crash from the counter. Heads turned and I saw Hal get thrown onto the counter, shattering a glass of strange blue-green drink. The Spectre, Veraria was it? She was the one in question who'd thrown Hal onto the counter and she grabbed him by his throat, pinning him down.

So this was the distraction Hal had in mind? It worked, at least for now, the Turian bodyguard, the one I'd worried about mostly, stood up from his seat and was watching intently. One of the human bodyguards looked like he was going to fall off his chair, cheering on Veraria, the other stood up and grabbed his pistol nervously.

Set stayed in his seat as the crowd began to clear around Hal and Veraria. The Turian Spectre punched Hal hard, once, twice, then she dragged him off and threw him to the ground. Veraria threw another punch but Hal rolled out of the way.

The Turian bodyguard was standing at a distance from them, watching intently, ready to jump in if things tipped the wrong way. The cheering human bodyguard had also walked over to them, laughing along with the crowd each time Veraria landed a blow. The other human bodyguard stood behind them, stoic.

The music still pounded on, it was hard to hear but the punches seemed almost real, infact was that a crack on Hal's helmet? Nevermind, he could take care of himself.

Hal ducked out of the way as the Spectre threw another punch, her next caught the Quarian squarely in the gut, eliciting a cheer from the crowd. The Batarian didn't seem to care about the fight. Instead he kept to his drink, taking large gulps of the pint sized mug.

I took the now empty seat next to him. The Batarian saw me and bared his teeth, rows of sharp needle fangs, before returning to his drink. One look atme was all I needed, this was our target definitely. His lower left eye was pale and clouded, there was a long arching scar along the right side of his thick neck. He took another sip of his drink, a disgusting, black glass of sludge.

I caught the attention of the bartender, an Asari girl, and ordered, "Mindfish, with a shot of Ryncol in it."

Mindfish was more of a drug then a drink, but most people didn't drink it more than once in their life. It was so potent that it would leave most people twitching on the floor for a few days, combine that with ryncol, Krogan hard liquor, most species would collapse instantly.

Another round of cheers from the left. I looked and saw Hal getting thrown onto the counter again and a bottle was shattered on his visor by Veraria. The Krogan bouncers had came up, probably to kick them out for fighting, but now they were just watching with shared interest. This couldn't last, Aria would see and she'd order them out.

The moment I got my drink, an almost jelly-like soup with the clear ryncol floating like oil, I turned to the Batarian and grimaced exaggeratedly, pretending to retch. The Batarian growled, "Do you have a problem, human?"

I scoffed. "Nah, but I think you do. I didn't think they made Batarians as soft as you."

He snarled and grabbed my chestplate, pulling me so close his breath condensed against my helmet. "Say that again, human."

I held my palms up in a surrender fashion, quickly stammering, "R-Relax, man, it's just that I thought a tough looking Batarian like you would be drinking something stronger."

He growled, "You challenging me to a drinking contest?"

Another round of laughs and I saw Hal thrown up into the air and land with an impact so loud I heard it over the music. I winced behind my helmet. "Of course not, don't think you could handle the stuff I take anyway."

He grabbed my drink, snarling, "Anything a human drinks a Batarian can drink a hundred."

And with that he downed my whole glass in one go. He grimaced visibly and his face contorted in pain. The Batarian growled, "I told you, human, your drinks can't… can't…"

One of his hands rose to his throat, he gave a gagging choke, unheard over the music, and spat out a glob of the jelly drink that congealed on the counter. "Whu-What is this?"

He fixed his three seeing eyes on me and choked, "Human… that drink… you… I'll…"

Even as he said this his eyes glazed over, rolling back in his head as Barrekk Seys tipped forward.

I felt a sense of triumph in me as I caught his body, surprisingly heavy for an individual of his stature. "That's why you don't take drinks from strangers."

In the roar of the still pounding music and the excitement of the fight, almost no one had noticed our little incident. I let the Batarian's unconscious, and drooling, body lean against me and began to make my way to the exit.

The bodyguards were still captivated by the fight, must be really interesting. I was slightly disappointed I would have to miss seeing Hal getting beaten up, by a women of all people.

I noticed the Batarian drooling on my shoulder and grimaced. One or two of the club's patrons looked at me strangely and I growled, heaving the unconscious Barrekk higher onto my shoulder, "A little too much to drink."

Now I was counting on Hal's and Veraria's ability to keep the crowds, and the bodyguards, distracted long enough for me to leave.

I glanced back and saw Hal still getting pounded, specifically he had his helmet smashed into a glass counter, and I noticed something. One of the Krogan bouncers had a hand pressing his earpiece, he was grimacing as if hearing something unpleasant. My eyes strayed up and I noticed that the shadow in the glass observation platform had a hand pressed to her ear as well. Not good.

The Krogan bouncers immediately stepped forward and pulled the two of them apart, actually more of pulling Veraria off a dazed Hal. As Hal was dragged off towards the exit, the Turian bodyguard went to Veraria's side and asked her something, probably if she was alright, the cheering human one slammed her on the back and congratulated her. Where was the last human bodyguard?

There was a click, barely audible, but I recognised it all the same. The safety of a pistol being undone.

I fell to the ground and heard gunshots as a man who'd been standing next to me sprouted a red bullet hole in his forehead. As he crumpled to the ground I turned and saw the last bodyguard, pistol drawn and firing. He emptied his whole thermal clip into people standing around me, then drew his assault rifle and started firing.

An Asari girl besides me had her dress peppered with ragged holes. People screamed, real screams of fear. I saw the Krogan bouncers throw Hal's body aside and charge the shooting human bodyguard, barrelling through the crowd that was stampeding for the door.

Aria watched with detached interest, seemingly uninterested as the bodyguard let loose another volley at me as I tried to get back up and hurry to the door. A few bullets sunk into the back of the Batarian I carried, one or two bore into my calves. I yelped in pain and fell to the ground again.

The bodyguard loaded in another thermal clip and prepared to fire again but the Turian bodyguard grabbed the rifle's barrel and pointed it away, making the bullets ricochet off the counter. He roared something at the human bodyguard but he was pushed away and the human took out another weapon, a shotgun. Good choice, considering the Krogan bouncers were nearly upon him.

I tried to get back up to my feet but my shot legs wobbled and gave beneath me. I tried to crawl a few feet, even as the crowd ran around me towards the doors. Then a hand grabbed me and pulled me to my feet. I looked up and saw Hal there, his visor flecked with a few drops of blood on the outside. "Come on, I'm thinking we should leave!"

He let me slide the Batarian's body mostly onto his shoulders and he pulled me up, supporting both me and our target's body as we staggered for the door. I panted, "Where's the Spectre?"

"I don't know, she probably bailed, which we should do too."

I draped the body behind us like a shield. If they shot us now it would shred up their ward's flesh.

A roar, I looked back. The club was mostly empty now, most of the patrons, and the dancers, had left already, the remaining three bodyguards had noticed us trying to leave. Only one of the Krogans were still standing, the other was writhing on the ground, peppered with buckshot. The other three bodyguards had their shotguns out, firing pointblack at the standing Krogan bouncer.

So we didn't have much time left to get out. They would come up behind us, pull the Batarian away and fill us with bullets. An embarrassing way to go out, shot in a club.

But Hal didn't give up, he slapped my face and brought me back to reality. "Oi! You want to go back to have your name cleared?"

My eyes danced over his shining visor. My legs burnt and I could feel the blood leaking out, wetting my armour. Hal growled, "Do you want to go back to Earth?"

Earth. The blue skies, the green grass under my feet, cool water in my throat. I nodded dumbly and he shouted, "Then stand up and drag this bosh'tet out!"

More nods, he nodded back. "That's right, now, one, two, three, lift!"

The keening roar of a dying Krogan sounded from behind, the clanking of boots against the dance floor. The club's exit was still so far away, the last of the club's screaming civilians ran out and the doors slid shut behind them. We walked a few steps before I felt a pressure against our backs. I looked back and saw one of the human bodyguards, the one who'd been cheering, grab the Batarian and pull him off of them. The other two bodyguards were behind, ready to shoot us the moment their ward was safe.

Hal, instead of holding onto our target's body, let go of it and tackled the Turian, wrestling for the Turian's shotgun. The other human bodyguard aimed his assault rifle at me and I tried to tackle him as well, but it ended up as more of throwing my body at him.

I grabbed the barrel of his rifle and pointed it away while he tried to point it back at me. He fired a few shots and they ricocheted off the dance floor and shattered a counter top. The last bodyguard and checking the Batarian's vitals, so he was out for the moment.

I tried to pull the rifle to me, but the bodyguard pulled back immediately, and I pulled again, and he pulled back. He snarled and kicked my shot calf, making me shout in pain and fall to my knees.

I looked up and saw the rifle being drawn up to between my eyes, the bodyguard's finger squeezing the trigger slowly. I lunged forward and grabbed the rifle's barrel again, pushing it up towards the ceiling as he held the trigger down.

The bullets shot out the holo-displays, making the holographic fires go out. As we struggled for dominance the shots flew in all directions, bouncing off tables, shattering glasses and bottles.

Then a series of cracks, so deafeningly loud we all heard it. The bodyguard pushed me away but I didn't care, all I could see was a series of glass cracks high above, white patterns across the glas Aria's glass box had been shot, three shots had struck the bulletproof glass, making a spiderweb of white arc across the front. Aria's shadow was still there, she hadn't flinched a bit. The bodyguards and the two of us didn't move, we just watched in horror. Then the shadow's eyes began to glow sapphire blue.

The three bodyguards literally dropped their weapons and ran for the door. Hal began to follow but paused and looked back. "Come on!"

I looked back, the Batarian was still there, his chest rising heavily with each ragged breath. Hal followed my gaze and growled in exasperation, making a strange rasping noise through his suit's speaker. But still he loped to my side and grabbed the Batarian's body by the cuff of his armour, as did I, and together we made for the door, dragging our target's body behind us.

* * *

><p>"Keelah Se'lai!"<p>

Hal banged his fist against a car door and cursed another string of rather colourful Khelish, the Quarian language. I threw the body down against the same hovercar.

We'd ran from Afterlife like the demons of hell nipped at our hells, knowing Aria's reputation when angered we weren't far off. There had been quite a crowd outside the club, listening to the sounds of gunfire, and more recently, a biotic explosion. Hal and I had carried the Batarian on our shoulders and disappeared into the crowd, not even looking back. We had wedged ourselves between two parked hovercars under a flickering light in a rather desolate carpark.

Hal looked out around the corner of the car. I didn't need to look to know it was abandoned. The Quarian pushed himself against the car and hissed, "Did you see her? She looked like she was going to rip us apart!"

I pointed at the Batarian, still snoring away sleepily with a few new bullet holes in his armour. "I say we dump him at the rendezvous with Duke's task force, get that amnesty and make a break for it. We have to get off Omega, if Aria's got her sights on us we'll be dead in a week at most."

"Damn right!" Hal growled. "We need to get going before word gets out that we-"

A thud on the hood of the hovercar on my right, making both of us jump back and draw our weapons. There was a female Turian there with familiar white tattoos and armoured in Blue Suns powerarmour, not a single scratch on the metal, her hand cannon still loaded. She slid off the hovercar and said, "I'll take it from here."

I stared at her for a moment then I realised who this really was. "Where were you! We could have used back up!"

She regarded them coldly. "I had faith in the two of you." Her eyes zeroed in on the unconscious Batarian. "And it appears my faith was not misplaced."

Hal nudged me. "Let's give this bosh'tet to her, she's a Spectre! We don't have time to go to that rendezvous with Aria's men after us!"

Veraria took another step. "Listen to the Quarian. It seems fear helps him speak sensibly."

Hal was right, she was a Spectre, Duke was just an N7. But there was something about her that unsettled me, the way one of her hands rested on the butt of her hand cannon as if she felt she'd have to use it, and maybe I just trusted Duke more from our time together in the trenches on Thessia.

"Give me the prisoner."

Then I realised something. She wasn't calling us Civilians.

* * *

><p>So there's Chapter 3, and here's the decision I need you readers to help me with. Should our dear protagonists hand over their prisoner to the Spectre and chance a run for the docking bays? Or risk taking their prisoner to the rendezvous with the N7 team that Set trusts?<p>

Give custody to Veraria or Give custody to Duke

PLEASE leave a review stating what decision this story should take as I'm KILLING myself over which choice to make.


	4. The Price of Trust

So, you all made the decision, both through reviews and private messages, and as such I've chosen the path where custody of Barrekk Seys is given to Vera. What could have happened in the other path is at the note at the end of this chapter so if you're curious you can just go right on ahead and see for yourself.

* * *

><p><em>Set<em>

I eyed her suspiciously, my fingers wrapped neatly around my M-92 Argo's handle and trigger, my finger quivering as I saw Veraria's reflection in the dirty glass sight. I knew Hal had his pistol out but I wasn't sure if he had the heart to shoot her, but she definitely had the heart to shoot us both and the Spectre probably wouldn't lose any sleep over it. Her hand rested on the butt of her hand cannon and I had a feeling she could whip that thing out and pull off two shots in mere milliseconds.

My mind was already thinking of a plan. _Get away from her, get the Batarian Slaver to Duke and take the amnesty. We'll have to lose the armour and guns, take the backstreets to reach the docking bay, then we find a shuttle to board and-_

Hal's voice roused me from my planning. "Give her the Batarian. We need to get him off our hands now!"

Veraria's hand tightened slowly around her hand cannon's handle. Hal was right, we wouldn't make it two steps out the carpark if someone spotted us with an unconscious Slaver on our backs. Word was definitely bouncing around Omega now, a kill order from Aria herself on our heads and a human and Quarian with an unconscious Batarian were unmistakable.

I growled in exasperation and lowered my rifle. Veraria didn't lose the tension in her shoulders but pushed her hand cannon back into its holster. I hadn't even noticed that she'd nearly pulled it out. Stepping back, I watched her eye me warily without moving.

Hal said cheerily, "One Batarian Slaver." The Batarian propped against the hovercar groaned and his eyes fluttered. Hal planted a foot in his face. "As I said, one unconscious Batarian Slaver."

Veraria stepped forward as Hal heaved the heavy body forward, but I blocked her path. "Duke promised us amnesty."

She was intimidating up close, I wasn't short but she was still half a head taller than me and I realised that she didn't have any scars at all. Some people brandish their scars like trophies of battles past, but it was those who had never suffered any that were to be feared. Either they were dangerously inexperienced or, in this case, were too good at what they did to get wounded.

Her eyes, startlingly bright and sparkling dangerously, seemed to convey words she didn't say, that she had no time to entertain us. But from her mouth slid the words, "I'll inform Duke immediately. You'll get your amnesty."

The way she said his name meant that he must have done something impressive to earn her respect. She seemed to think this answer was enough and laid a hand on my shoulder, pushing me to the side against one of the cars. "Move aside, Civilian."

She knelt down and checked the Batarian's vitals by feeling a major vein on the base of his skull. Hal leant against the side of a car as Veraria picked up the Slaver's body. The Quarian began, "So I was wondering, since you're a Spectre you'll be going back to the Citadel soon won't you? What say you and I go out for a drink at the Commons?"

She brushed past him with the Batarian over his shoulder. "Annnnnd she's gone."

* * *

><p>It had been two hours since we'd left Afterlife but already our images were being flashed across the dozens of holographic displays, stills from the club's cameras and zoom in'ed shots on the two of us and the three Blue Suns. I wasn't concerned about myself, once I'd taken off my helmet it was hard to connect me to the generic armoured human in the pictures, but Hal was the real issue. Omega literally had only three Quarians at almost any time and they would be naked as a sore thumb out there. He couldn't take off or change the look of his suit so we had to settle for another sort of disguise.<p>

And thus a rather disgruntled Quarian now walked besides me, wrapped up in a hoodie that shadowed his mask and pants so baggy and loose that they hid his back-curved legs, done up like a human with an aversion to light, complete with gloves and a cap over his hood. It had taken them a good few minutes to wriggle his legs into the pants and his three fingered hands into the leather gloves which he kept shoved into his pockets.

We walked down a market street, the quickest way to the docking bay that didn't take us through endless crowds, but still there were too many people here for comfort ogling at the stores' wares. And Hal's endless complaining didn't help.

"How do you humans walk in these? They're so loose!"

I discreetly caught him, if it's possible to discreetly catch someone, and muttered, "That's the point, we don't want anyone to see that you're a Quarian, remember, we're two humans leaving Omega for a short vacation."

"When can we take a real vacation? Somewhere tropical like Virmire or Halagaz. How about Sur'kesh!"

"Quiet!" My heart jumped every time someone turned their head towards us. "You still sound like a Quarian, remember?" His filtered, processed voice was shockingly loud whenever he spoke. "Just let me do the talking."

"A'ight," Hal replied. I shot him a look. "What? I- oh yeah, silence."

I tapped my omnitool and tried to contact Duke, meaning to ask about that amnesty. Hal had tried to reason that once Veraria had brought the Batarian to Duke he'd arrange for the amnesty but I had to be sure. My omnitool hummed a sad bleeping tone and a message came up: Limited Reception. Perks of being on Omega.

There was a doorway up ahead and a large crowd seemed to be trying to get out. _What's going on? _I glanced over the heads of the crowd and my breath caught in my throat.

_Freelancers_. A trio of rookies, a human, an Asari and a Batarian, all with light guns that looked like they'd never been used. The Batarian was using his omnitool while the Asari and human inspected individuals from the crowd before letting them through the doors. They had set up a checkpoint at the doors, stopping everyone who wanted to walk through and inspecting them to see if they were those that Aria had placed bounties on.

Hal also swore and uttered another bout of Khelish, before hissing, "Turn around, we find another way."

"This _is_ the best way!" I should have realised this would happen. There were probably other checkpoints around the station set up by others more professional and dangerous, the gangs and Aria's men probably. Our best hope was that these rookies would get sloppy.

We tried to hold back but the push of the crowd began to force us forwards and the two of us were wedged behind a rather unpleasant smelling human and a pack of Vorcha that thankfully didn't look like Blood Pack. Over the discontented murmurs I heard the Asari shout, "He's clear!" Then the hiss of opening doors.

I hissed to Hal, "Pull your hood down. Make sure they can't see your face."

More out of something to do to calm myself down, I tapped out the numbers on my omnitool's keypad and dialled up Duke again, not really expecting much but the bleep and a 'Limited Reception' message. But this time, this time a voice buzzed into my earpiece.

"Set! What happened? I'm seeing chaos outside Afterlife, Aria's mercenaries are blocking the entrance and Aria herself placed bounties on you two and three others, Blue Suns it seems like."

I tiptoed again. We were getting unnervingly close. I whispered, "Just ask Veraria, she'll fill you in on what happened, but make sure you don't forget the amnesty."

"And throw in two fake identities if you can help," Hal muttered. I glared at him. "Fine, the credits too."

I sighed. Duke asked, "Veraria? I haven't been able to contact her since she's left. I thought it was the reception but it looks like she's blocking all my calls and my eggheads can't get a trace on her signal."

Hal hissed, "We're getting closer."

"Shut up!" To Duke, I said, "That can't be right. I saw her take the Batarian's body away, she said she was going to inform you about it immediately."

Silence and we both slowly pieced it together on our own. Duke spoke hurriedly, "You have to find her! We need Barrekk Seys!"

I scrounged my face up in a face of frustration, grabbing Hal and turning around. "We're leaving."

"I'm not good with the inference stuff. Fill me in."

Duke spoke for me. "Veraria's a lone wolf, both she and my team were sent here with the same mission but she thinks she can do it alone. Maybe she can, but the Alliance needs me to bring Barrekk into Alliance Space and extract a statement from him. We could tear down the Slaving Rings right now! But Veraria's methods of interrogation will most definitely kill the prisoner."

I could imagine Hal cringing from his experience.

"We can't let that happen, we need Barrekk alive," Duke reiterated. "Or I can't grant you amnesty."

My heart seemed to start bubbling with emotions. I needed the amnesty if I ever wanted to see Earth again, in fact if I ever wanted to leave Terminus space. I sure as hell wasn't dying out in a hell hole like this.

"How about the credits?" Hal asked hopefully.

"Nor the credits. Now find that Spectre!"

* * *

><p><em>Veraria Feldros<em>

As I strutted across the span of the dark room, a space of eight point three metres, this Spectre could not stop thinking about how my situation disgusted me. This asteroid station disgusted, the air, the residents, the apartments. This place didn't even have any proper heating, just a bedroom with nothing but a bed, a window with blinds drawn and a door with the lock shut.

But more than anything, the people I had to work with disgusted me. That Blue Suns recruiter I had to pretend to flirt with to infiltrate the Blue Suns, the Quarian who's help Duke had enlisted, a mistake, and most of all, the Batarian Slaver strapped to the chair before me.

He was awake now, thanks to several packs of stimulants injected into his system to counter the Ryncol and purging the Mindfish from the Batarian's body, don't ask, then strapping him to a chair, which I had to take from the motel reception downstairs as my room didn't have a chair.

I had dimmed the lights, right above the Batarian's head, so he could barely see me at the edge of the light as I circled him slowly. He slowly shook his head to clear the remaining scraps of weakness from his system, then he began to struggle weakly. "Where am I?"

"Barrekk Seys." More of a statement than a question.

His eyes, all four of them including the one blind one, widened. "Cael? Is that you? Get me out of here or I'll… I'll…"

His body hunched over as he retched up a mouthful of drink, his black Batarian brew mixed with a little bit of remaining Mindfish. I maintained my cold expression and stepped into the light. "Good afternoon, Barrekk."

He looked up and his eyes narrowed. "Cael? Whu… You aren't Blue Sun are you?"

I didn't bother answering. Instead I walked calmly around him till I stood behind him. "I've heard Batarian skin is thick, but how does it hold up against Turian Steel?"

There was a cold hiss as I drew her long prized Ceremonial Knife and the Batarian began to thrash. "Let me out! I will make sure that you feel a year of torture for every minute I've been kept here, then I'll sell your broken body back to the Hegemony itself!"

"Oh I highly doubt you could harm me." I stepped to his side and brandished my blade, flourishing all eighteen inches of tempered steel before his eyes. "You should be concerned about your own wellbeing as of now."

His eyes fixed on the blade and he gulped, almost unnoticeably. I felt a little hint of satisfaction as he growled, "If that blade touches me then-"

"What?" In an instant I had the edge of the blade against his thick neck. "Like this?" I pressed the blade into his neck and he craned his head to the other way as if he could escape it. "My requests are very simple, answer my questions and I'll send you on your way and you can go abduct some human colonists or manage your harem of slaves."

"What… do… you… want?" He spoke in careful, measured tones, looking down at the blade pressing into his neck skin.

"Information. What do you know of the name Arbedas Maxim?"

* * *

><p><em>Hal'Thenn vas Zaera<em>

We were running now, or rather Set was running and I was trying to catch up in my horribly long pants. Set had assured me this was regular clothing for humans he called 'old-fashioned hippies'. It hid me well enough, amazingly, but how could any living thing think this was stylish? A sleek enviro-suit with a handsome face underneath a mask, now that was style, a barely contained ball of sexiness and swag. I felt like a walking menagerie full of particularly hideous pyjaks. (Which, interestingly, I did walk into once. Horrible place, the little things throwing their *ahem, products of toil, at me and Set.)

I nearly lost Set twice in his haste and my hood even came down once, thankfully the only who noticed was an elderly human woman. Of course, Set was having a conversation with Duke as we ran and Duke was conversing right back, trying to figure out where our dear Vera was. I tried to interject little nuggets of my invaluable wisdom but they, in their infinite foolishness, ignored me.

"So you said you parted ways at a carpark?"

"Yes, down besides Apex Omnitools, she left some time before us."

"What does human cheese taste like. I heard it's great but I'm a Dextro so…"

"She'll be wanting some place secluded, with thick walls to muffle screams."

"Good vantage points too, a defensible position with many exit routes to bug out from. Also check street cams, she's cautious but she might have gotten careless and let one catch her."

"The eggheads are on it now."

"What do eggs taste like? I mean chicken eggs. I heard everything in the galaxy tastes like chicken."

"Shut up!"

"I'm trying to help here!"

"Not you, Duke, Hal!"

And thus, going along like this we ran to the residential district, less markets here, more highrise apartments rising into the orange tinted dusty skies.

Set raised his hand to his earpiece. "Do you have boots on the ground?"

"No, sending my men after you was risky enough. Aria's on the warpath now and I don't want my men on her hit lists."

(Notice how military this all sounds, and notice also how they are ignoring my presence completely. Such is the life of the irrefutably dashing and talented, we are almost invariably shunned by the less dashing when they congregate in herds.)

"Set, the eggheads got me a confirmed visual, one street cam maybe twelve blocks uptown caught a Turian with a Batarian on her shoulders going into a backalley… there's another one on the opposite street that caught her entering a cheap apartment, _Galaxy Flnest_!"

That's right, spelled with an 'L'. An interesting place actually, it's sign was literally the same as the sign of a more prestigious apartment on the Citadel: _Galaxy Finest_, except that the dot of the 'i' had been removed. Strangely, _Galaxy Finest_, had reported it's sign being stolen three years ago, around the time _Galaxy Flnest _popped up.

Duke continued, "We've hacked into their camera records, she's in room 403."

I asked, "Which is where?"

"The third room on the fourth floor!"

* * *

><p><em>Veraria Feldros<em>

"Tell me who Arbedas is!"

The Batarian bared his teeth at me. "Threaten me some more, Turian, see where it gets you?"

Either he was extremely stupid or something was stopping him from speaking, the fear of something worse than a dangerous Turian with an eighteen-inch knife.

I raised the knife, pressing its tip into the tip of his right cheekbone. "I don't think I need to tell you what will happen if I do not get a satisfactory answer."

He glared back. "Go burn, Bitch."

I flicked my hand casually to one side, carving a long, spindly red cut across the right side of his face and making him flinch. A few droplets of his blood flew and stained the far wall.

Barrekk's face came back to meet my cold stare. "There's nothing you can do that will make me speak."

"Is that so?" I held my blade up to the light with one hand, the other behind my back, inspecting the droplet of blood running down its length.

"Yes," came the growl.

"Wrong answer."

* * *

><p><em>Hal'Thenn vas Zaera<em>

It had been easy getting into the building, the electronic lock had been hacked and the door left unlocked, it seems dear little Vera had gotten sloppy.

The place was a real dump even to me, and I slept in the Omegan Sewers once on a job. (A particularly tricky Salarian gunman who as slippery as Salarians came. Long story short, Set prowled the streets, I searched the sewers. For two weeks. Don't ask how I got fed, you don't want to know).

We were in a hallway near to a stairway. The floor was bare concrete, which besides being a bit slippery in my suit didn't bother me much, but the walls looked as if someone had spilled some strange colourful syrup on it, then tried to cover it up with tiles before shattering half the tiles and leaving the rest on. The doors on either side of the hallway leading to the rooms were in various states of disrepair, some of them were normal tinted glass sliding ones with a few cracks, others were actual wooden doors hanging on dented hinges. There were more than a few noises emanating from these rooms that sparked quiet distaste from Set, interest from me.

"Fourth floor, let's go!"

"Yeah, yeah, got it." I reluctantly followed, casting passing glances into some of the rooms.

As I followed up the stairway, looked like someone pissed in one corner, I felt the horrible human jeans snag under my suit's metal boots. I growled and kicked off the jeans, they came off easily considering they were about seven sizes too big, and threw off the rest of the clothes, especially the hat. When I looked back up Set was already on the next level.

* * *

><p><em>Veraria Feldros<em>

The Batarian's screams were loud, but I wasn't concerned. I had picked the room specifically because I knew this one room had the thickest walls and a door that still operated to some extent.

I circled around the chair again, seeing the light reflect off Barrekk's sweat slick mottled skin. I reached down and wrapped my fingers around the handle of my knife, which I had left deposited buried in the arm chair, straight through his hand.

The blood pooled on his hand and flowed down on either side, dripping slowly onto the ground. His head was bowed over, his body expended from screaming, his shoulders shaking slightly. Slowly, slowly, he looked up, his right cheek bore the cut I'd granted him earlier and his skin seemed a more ashen shade of green.

My indifferent eyes met his quick, flitting ones, pupils dilated. I pulled slightly on the knife's handle, eliciting a groan from him. "You know, it isn't getting impaled that hurts the most. It's pulling the instrument out that kills, it gives the vessels space to bleed you see."

His eyes quickly darted to his impaled hand then to my eyes. The chair was shaking along with his body. His resolve was breaking, I could feel it.

I leant a bit of weight against the knife, feeling his muscles twist and writhe around the blade. "They say Batarians have a great capacity for pain." I pushed the knife in deeper, making him screw up his eyes and grimace as he convulsed. "I'd like to test that out."

My hands wrapped tightly around the handle and pulled it out slightly, making the blood gush forth. He shouted out in pain and bowed over again in his chair. "Please! Stop!"

"Then answer me, who is Arbedas Maxim?"

I could see it in his eyes, or rather the way his eyes didn't meet mine in shame.

* * *

><p><em>Set<em>

I ran down the hallway of the fourth floor, drawing my assault rifle as I did, the weapon sliding to full length. Glancing back, I saw Hal just coming up the stairwell, muttering something about the piss stains on the walls. He drew his pistol as he ran.

The rooms up here were in a better condition than the ones downstairs, all of them had tinted glass sliding doors. I noticed they were set further apart too, these rooms definitely had thicker walls.

My eyes scanned the front of the glass doors, clouded shades of black and grey with numbers digitally stencilled onto the front. _One… two… three._

I pushed myself against the wall besides the door, ignoring a blood-like stain there. Hal caught up, panting. "Have you ever thought about just calming down, taking a step back… shoot everyone and ditching the job?"

I glared at him and he got the message, flicking the safety off his pistol and pushing himself against the wall on the other side of the door.

We'd done this before a hundred times, I'd break down the door with a kick or an explosive charge, then we'd clear the room, he take the left and I the right. There were times this didn't work as well as it should, namely the incident of the Pyjak Menagerie, but it was good enough.

I nodded at him, he nodded back, silent now. The door was too thick for me to kick open, I pulled out a simple anti-material grenade, Elkoss Combine-made, and laid my finger on the dead button, ready to flick it on.

Even as I prepared to attach it to the door and prime it, the glass partitioned and slid apart, a female Turian with white tattoos and armoured in her original black, glowering armour stepped through, wiping her long knife, now stained halfway red, on her armour. She didn't break her stride or regard either of us, simply saying, "You should hurry up, he'll bleed out in two minutes."

He? I looked into the room and saw the Batarian slouched over in a simple chair under a single dim light, his left hand had a huge red hole in the back of his palm from which blood flowed freely, pooling around the chair legs.

* * *

><p>And that be the fourth chapter, hopefully with your support I can further this series if you think it's nice. This is just the beginning, trust me, I've got big things in mind for this series.<p>

As for what would have happened if the other path would have been chosen, a number of things really. Here's the short story:

Set and Hal deny custody to Vera, she tries to shoot them but they escape, not before Hal gets a glancing blow from her hand cannon in his side, unknown to Set. They try and deliver the Batarian Slaver in their custody to Duke by meeting at the rendezvous, one thing leads to another and their identities are discovered by some of Aria's gunmen. The excitement draws in the Blood Pack and a shoot out ensues, Duke is forced to send his own N7 task force operatives to provide fire support and the Batarian is delivered into their custody. The results?

-Vera remembers being denied custody and this will affect her interactions with Set and Hal in the future.

-Vera fails to get information for herself and will not be able to get to future incidents before the others.

-Aria grows suspicious and tightens security on Omega.

-Alliance soldiers caught helping Set and Hal on camera, causing political implications and guaranteeing Barrekk protection from the Hegemony.

-Hal's wound from Vera's hand cannon will cause implications in the future.

Of course there is a seperate list for the outcome of the path chosen already in this story but I will refrain from posting it to keep the length of this page down. Until the next chapter, where we find out what the Batarian told Vera and the real mastermind behind the slaving rings, _au revoir!_


End file.
